


SDRA2/DRA Relationship Ficlets

by ThePurpleEyes



Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Danganronpa Another - Fandom, Super Danganronpa Another 2 - Fandom, dra - Fandom, sdra2 - Fandom
Genre: /some/ of the characters who are tagged only appear briefly, Angst, F/M, Ficlet Collection, Heavy Angst, Hurt/Comfort, I hate sdra2, M/M, Nikei misses his wife.... and his other friends ig, One Shot Collection, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Purple is on her shit again, Symbolism, will Purple ever write happy shit?? who knows
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-24
Updated: 2021-02-01
Packaged: 2021-03-10 23:07:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 13,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28295046
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePurpleEyes/pseuds/ThePurpleEyes
Summary: A whole buncha' Super Danganronpa Another 2 and Danganronpa Another relationshp-focused ficlets. Ships, romance, platonic, and brotps are to be included (hopefully)
Relationships: Chiebukuro Setsuka/Yomiuri Nikei, Hashimoto Syobai/Kinjo Tsurugi
Comments: 3
Kudos: 9





	1. Intro

Howdy there! First post here haha. Thank you for stoping by and taking time out of your day to read this! I’ve been a huge fanfic lover for so many many years and I just recently got an account to start working. But this work in particular will surround the Danganronpa Another series, which is a fan game saga based on Danganronpa. PLEASE go check it out if you haven’t, amazing fan games 10/10. There will also be huge enormous giant spoilers for the entirety of both games from here on out, so be cautious!

This work will actually be a collection of (semi??) short fics, all focusing on character relationship dynamics from SDRA2/DRA. Keep in mind all of the shortfics with “character / character” are _technically_ romantic ships, but based on the sake of character writing and personal preference, I don’t do a lot of affectionate-y and typical romance themes. So these romantic ships can still be perceived as platonic if you so desire, totally valid my dear audience. As for the case of “character & character”, that one is 100% supposed to be platonic, so I recommend not getting the wrong idea.

Also keep in mind I’m a HUGE sucker for angst and hurt/comfort, so most, if not all of my fics will have themes surrounding that, including the ones posing as “wholesome”.

I’m not set in stone for what ships I’ll be specifically writing, but they _may_ include:

Tsurugi Kinjo / Syobai Hashimoto

Tsurugi Kinjo / Yamato Kisaragi

Tsurugi Kinjo / Kouhei Sasaki

Mikako Kurokawa / Rei Mekaru

Satsuki Iranami / Haruhiko Kobashikawa

Setsuka Chiebukuro / Nikei Yomiuri

Emma Magorobi / Hajime Makunouchi

Sora / Yoruko Kabuya

Sora / Yuki Maeda

Hibiki Otonokoji / Yuki Maeda

Akane Taira / Utsuro

Yamato Kisaragi & Mikako Kurokawa

Iroha Nijiue & Syobai Hashimoto

As I said before, these are NOT set in stone and only giving an example if what I _may_ be writing, since these are all my favorite platonic and romantic ships. So don’t expect something then be disappointed if I never have time/motivation to write it. You’re also free to request relationships, but I have the right to decline for any reason.

One more thing, I am a busy person!! These might take a while to write as I gotta balance not only art and animation, but college on my plate too. So patience is GREATLY appreciated!

Thank you, and I hope that you look forward to this!


	2. Tranquilizers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bloody incident with the leader of the Kisaragi Foundation sends everyone into shock. But what was the reasoning behind this incident?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woooooo, first actual chapter! This Tsubai shortfic (shortfic of 3k words) was for my two closest friends who are HUGE Tsubai nerds, and since they mean a lot to me I wanted to give em' a little something. English isn't necessarily my strong suit so I hope the grammar was at least readable in this.
> 
> Stay tuned! Thanks for reading!
> 
> Trigger warnings: Ommetaphobia , eye harm , burn scars , trauma , attempted suicide , MAJOR Dra and Sdra2 spoilers

“For the last time, hold still.”

Some special days are never quite forgettable, but these days felt like waking up on the wrong side of the bed; they _want_ to feel forgettable and to elapse quietly, so no one will speak of those days ever again. Half a week had ticked away in what felt like brief seconds since Tsurugi Kinjo, boss and head chieftain of the Kisaragi Foundation, had lost half of his vision from a self-inflicted burn wound.

Found on the brink of perishing, a bloodied face plastered with torn skin was quite the sight upon discovery. But still, Tsurugi Kinjo had lived, he was a survivor after all. Overall motivations for such an action are shrouded, only one such as himself can access the answer. But much to everyone’s expectations, he won’t give up said answer for a long time. Turns out that Syobai Hashimoto, the street-raised specialized agent who was specifically hired by Kinjo himself, has a wide knowledge on how to tend even the most severe physical damage, and took after the half-insane man. Insane for attempted suicide perhaps? Or another reason….

The bed ridden ex-cop let out another groan of pain and annoyance. His legs and waist strapped to a hospital bed in a dimly lit militarian infirmary with only Hashimoto as the _delightful_ company, didn’t exactly appeal. What appealed less however was the sound of Hashimoto cutting another piece of medical tape, and roughly wrapping it around his boss’ head, making sure it was tight around the injured eye. And after a long beat of silence, Hashimoto gets up to wash his hands, following a trail of defeated muttering and sighs. Kinjo had hardly noticed the tray of food besides the sink until Hashimoto had walked over there. Then, he lifted his hand to feel around the bandage, taking in the fact that _he_ caused this. Though not long after, Hashimoto turns off the running water and interrupts Kinjo’s stiff movement.

“Mess with the bandage then your wound gets infected, mess with the wound and you die. Simple?” Kinjo would never get used to how blunt his rough voice can be. But after drying his hands, Hashimoto sits back down near the bed on an old chair. Resting his hands on the surface of his own thighs, and letting them travel down to his knees. Another long drawn out silence drives Kinjo’s attention to the leaking faucet, that causes a soft echo in the room. Hashimoto follows his boss’ line of sight before snapping back into chatter. 

“If you’re not gonna talk then I guess I’ll share some news, not like you have a say in any of it, _boss_.” Syobai chuckled after Kinjo responded with a cold stare.

“Much to no one’s surprise… Or approval, save for her sleuth and that rainbow dipshit… Mekaru became chieftain, _temporary_ chieftain.” He started as if he was reciting a book to a child, cross legged and stuck up as usual. Kinjo’s inattentive huff made the broker continue. “But I gotta hand it to her, that girl really knows how to keep the youngsters in line.”  
  
“........” Kinjo frowned, but quickly melted back into an expressionless face. “….. I trust her.” He said hoarsely.  
  
“Come again? Oh you’re finally talkin’ now.” Hashimoto smirks and pokes his cheek, right before Kinjo swats the hand away gently.

“..... Anything else to report? Or shall you sit here to be a bothersome?”

Hashimoto still wore a shit-eating grin and clicked his tongue, feeling satisfied with the power he holds over his superior. “Now, I’m going to ask you about what happened in your office a few days ago, and _why._ ” Kinjo’s glare sharpens defensively, clearly a troubled man he has grown to be. “What do you expect me to take you for? A therapist...?” He then looked away from the broker. His voice going from flat and monotone to a deadly whisper, as if he hadn’t meant to speak out loud. “You’re not even like him….”  
  
Upon hearing the word “he”, Hashimoto was motivated to pry for more info. “Speak up, will you?”

“........”

Kinjo didn’t know he was biting his cheek until the taste of warm iron trickled down his tongue. He tried to convince himself not to discuss any of _that_ , but in the end…. “….. Do you… Remember how the tragedy started?” The taste of blood suddenly feels stronger with the annoyance of Hashimoto rolling his eyes.

“Only a fool wouldn’t know.”

“Right… And do you know how it died...?”  
  
Syobai Hashimoto pondered at the last question, but only briefly. “Trick question, eh boss? The tragedy is still going on, _technically_.”

“… That’s where you’re wrong.” Kinjo smirked at Hashimoto’s eyes glittering with confusion. “You see… Junko Enoshima...” Kinjo had hesitated to say the woman’s name, like a sour poison. “… She was the tragedy… Now the world is still in complete ruin, I couldn’t agree more. But the _real_ tragedy died years ago…. The tragedy that was Junko Enoshima and whoever worked with her.”

“What are you getting at- “

“My point is….” Kinjo’s icy red eyes drifted from Hashimoto’s face to the infirmary bed of which he laid on. “If the tragedy died…. _Years ago_ … Then why are we still suffering?”

Hashimoto twitched uncomfortably, but didn’t let it show. Before piping up, he was cut off yet again my Kinjo’s flat-toned voice. “….. Why is it that every time I so much as _blink_ , I can hear the tormented cries of the children…? Those _damned_ children….” Kinjo turned his head further away again. Hashimoto thought he saw a glimpse of the morbid man muttering another few words, but it was too soft to hear. “Children who had lively futures, with friends and family _and_ thoughts of their own, why was it all cut short just because I was too incompetent to save them….?”

And that was when the realization hit Hashimoto like a bullet penetrating his skull. _Right…. I almost forgot he was in one of those killing games…_ He un-crossed his legs and scooted back in his chair more, almost in sync with Kinjo falling back on his pillows.

“The more these…. These eyes…. Reminded me of that… Reminded me of my failures. The more helpless I felt. And the… K-Kisaragi Foundation can’t thrive with a helpless leader.” ….. “So, you know what I did?” An empty laugh edged his words like fine lace. Kinjo turned his head back around to look at Syobai, and all the broker saw was a hollow porcelain face that narrowed near the mouth to give off an uneasy smile. Messy grey-blue hair strands fall in front of those eyes…. Those spaceless red eyes…. Like blood seeping into pure white snow, and was forever locked away in Kinjo’s rheumy vision.

“They were the first-hand witnesses to everything that has ruined my life and more, so my only goal was to get rid of them…” Subtly rocking his head, the chieftain wore a small twisted grin that stood out more than the bandages on his head. “…. So, I can enjoy life knowing I finally punished myself for _failing so hard_ …” The words coming from the man, the man who was so tough-willed that he could shape several hundred traumatized tragedy survivors into Foundation soldiers, trailed off eerily into a chilling silence. Hashimoto wanted to fix that cold silence with comforting warmth, but as much empathy the broker felt, the more he denied his own emotions. He wouldn’t let some broken man, much less his boss, know he feels _empathy_. Out of all things!

Instead of responding verbally, Hashimoto had stood up to grab the food tray by the leaking faucet; his movements felt stiff and rigid, like he himself was tied to an infirmary bed. Kinjo’s words must’ve cut straight through his limbs, hollowing his legs and arms as he picks up the plate of murky, cooled soup. Hashimoto no longer had the urge to stifle a snarky laugh, or a sarcastic remark. Much less the fact it could risk his job position, but more so that Hashimoto just felt _pity_. Sheer, utter _pit_ y.

A frown tugged at the corners of his mouth as he scooted his chair closer to Kinjo to feed him. Kinjo watched with carefulness as the grungy broker gently picked up the bowl of soup, to hand to his boss.

“Hungry, you must be………”

“……….”

“Don’t try to speak, your throat must be dry. Do take my word for it will ya? I understand quite familiarly y’know…….”  
  
“Curious….”

Hashimoto shook his head before Kinjo could continue. “Don’t ask. It’s not stuff I’m willing to share so easily.”

“……..”

Kinjo sipped from his cold soup and let the chilling liquid run down his dry mouth. The stench and taste of soggy vegetables and iron makes him gag, as it tastes familiar; however, not in a good way. He didn’t notice a spilling drip of soup run down his arm and stain the sickly pale bedsheets, as equally pale as his lifeless skin color. He carelessly handed the half-full ceramic bowl back to Hashimoto.

“I’m full.” He lies.

“No…. You aren’t.”  
  
“…. It doesn’t taste great, anyway.”

Hashimoto took advantage of Kinjo’s now blind right side. Sneering till his heart’s content; he took Kinjo by surprise and tried to pry his lips open to feed him the soup. _Asserting dominance to my own boss? If I ignored him, and let him have his way; he would want just that wouldn’t he! I need to show him I’m not here to accept the fact he could possibly be trying to starve himself… After he’s been eating fine for a few days._ Hashimoto’s mind trails off. 

Kinjo had ended up obliging and drinking more soup, to get the act of Hashimoto spoon feeding him over with. Hashimoto briefly remembered Tsurugi mentioning a certain “he”, wondering what that’s about, he poked Kinjo’s right cheek again. But Hashimoto was sure he might know who “he” is.

“You mentioned someone earlier, don’t think I forgot~”

“Who? Rei Mekaru?”

“No no, I’m asking who _‘he’_ is.”

“………”

Hashimoto had the strongest urge to let out a hollow round of laughter. Quite entertaining it was to see Kinjo in such an unresponsive and vulnerable state. There are as many people who would _love_ to hurt him to see his weak side, as there are enemies to the Foundation. But all these thoughts are bringing Hashimoto to hesitation, questioning if he _should_ be thinking of this? Taking pleasure in seeing a depressed man before him, tied in a hospital bed after attempting suicide. No one is here to read Hashimoto’s thoughts, so is it justified?

Once agin, the reoccurring feeling of pity floods into his nostrils, making him inhale deeply.

“… Kisaragi.”

Hashimoto had lifted his head after muttering that name, to see Kinjo’s attention had resurfaced out of the blue. His emotions still inattentive, but a subtle frown forms.

“Yamato Kisaragi was the son of an inventor, I know because he owns the company that makes my phone… And he was in your class that died, wasn’t he? That’s why the Foundation is named after hi- “

“Just stop.” Kinjo huffs dismissively. “Don’t try to understand.”

“…… No. I’ll get answers outta ya. Who is Yamato Kisaragi?” Hashimoto demands.

“Yamato Kisaragi isn’t relevant, just stop talking about him.”

Kinjo turned his head to the left, so he couldn’t show his face to Hashimoto. But the broker wouldn’t give up so easily, and kept pressing for info.

“No boss… No, this is a relevant matter.” His teeth clench as he speaks, leaning in closer to to the other male. “The Foundation… The _Kisaragi_ Foundation had to have gotten its name from somewhere, I’m correct. And I trust you with telling me more than anyone else here. You, greenie, and Mekaru are the only ones who knew what happened during that game; so just tell me!“

“I-” The chieftain bites back his own words, then continues again.

No response follows.

“Tsurugi, you _need_ to talk to me. If you truly believe justice is something worth living for, then at least stay alive for it.” Syobai crossed his hands neatly. “No one here wants to eradicate evil as much as you, admit that, and stick around to uphold those morals.”

Tsurugi took a moment to swallow, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “…. T-There was someone who shared the same morals as I… And passed it down, like _family traditio_ n.”

“I can assume, a close friend?”

“Oh? You don’t know?” Tsurugi crooked his head. “Father, actually. Juu Kinjo was my father.” Tsurugi’s words were suddenly very warm, but internally bitter. Like an old apple Syobai had used for the soup. But this made Syobai all too interested, moreso then before. He leaned in his chair, making sure Tsurugi had space. “Elaborate…”

Tsurugi gripped his blankets, inhaling sharply, trying to steady his own emotions. _He’s trying so hard to bottle it all up…._ Then shaking his head. “… My old man taught me all there was to life, or, so he thought. He exposed me to dangerous serial killers, disarming bombs, shooting a pistol while at gunpoint… Yes, yes, I remember it clearly, I was four years of age.”  
  
“…”

“H-He wanted me to shape me…. J-Just like him….” The tears of Tsurugi’s previous moment had rolled down his face. “So, he gave me a world of which he wanted me to live in. A world where I can’t control my own life… Doesn’t that sound like me, Mr. Hashimoto?”

_I wouldn’t say strict rules and mindset is a controlling world for me, even as a free man. But for others? Perhaps…._

“So, you accept being just like him. But you don’t, do you?”

“…. It’s all a part of my own punishment…. I became the one person who made me like this today, I lost a battle with myself, but that’s something I’m used to.” He lifted a hand to point to his bandaged eye, starting to feel oddly tired. “Isn’t that right, _Mr. Hashimoto._ “

“So…. This entire mess we call Tsurugi, is his fault.” Syobai’s hollow laughter is followed by a beat of silence. “…. And where is he now?”

“Not certain, I never sought him out… He’s either back at home, waiting for me to finally return home from school _so the cycle of emotional torture can repeat_ , or dead, most likely the latter… Just like everyone who has ever been a part of my life, to ruin it or to not ruin it, they’re gone with the winds of evil.” Tsurugi shrugs and mutters a name somberly that Syobai couldn’t hear. The carelessness and self-pity in him enrages Syobai. 

“…. I’m sure I can figure out the rest.” Hashimoto said carefully. He was also ready to point out the fact that Tsurugi looked like he needed a hug. The empathy warming his chest told him that enough, but Syobai himself wasn’t ready. _What would my words do anyway._ … Then, he parted his lips to speak. “The world is unfair, I’m sure everyone who has died in this mess can agree enough. But come on, what good does sulking around ever do for y-?”

“It wasn’t supposed to be this way!”

Kinjo’s once-croaky and hoarse voice fills the room, and Hashimoto can feel the blood from his face draining. Kinjo snaps his head back, watery red eyed flare with cold grief, so full of emotion it had caught Hashimoto off guard. As Kinjo stated earlier, those eyes have seen hell and worse…

“… K-Kisaragi… He was just a kid… Such a bright, happy kid. Who did so much in the little time I knew him… He inspired hope, made everyone a blind fool and turn to ignorance… But we were _happy_ , at least…” Kinjo lifted his chin to stare at the ceiling, Hashimoto leaned back in his chair. “He found me when I was broken and beaten at the hands of my father… He promised me a world of safety, safe from my father a-…. And my… Problems. He had so much good karma on his side, so why, _why, why why why_ did he leave me… Why did they all leave me. Why wasn’t _I_ good enough to save them. Why instead of becoming someone like him, I became my father instead… Why can’t I make a harmonious mark on the world, but a dead kid can?”

The person who had been the ideal Foundation member since he took leadership was now speaking of himself like a euthanized dog. He’s too hung up with the past, his classmates, Kisaragi, and his father, that it’s warping his mind. If Tsurugi continues the road where all he ever thinks about is his own self-pity then there’s no turning back. Syobai launches himself from his seat to grab his arm, only to be slapped away from Tsurugi.

“Don’t touch me!”

“You’re wrong.” Syobai glared darkly. “If you’re just going to sit and marinate in your own self-shit, then you’re mentally nothing more than a child. Just a weakling… But that’s not what you are.” He turns his head to smile. “You’re the leader of a foundation. A foundation that wishes to rid the world of evil, I’m not wrong, so don’t try talking back.” On the last of his words, Syobai let go of Tsurugi’s arm and slipped his jacket on.

“Moral of the story, idiot… Is that in order to move on from the past, you need to make an actual effort to change yourself. Not to ram a candle in your eye, because what has that _ever_ done to combat the evil and injustice you hate so much?”

“Where are you going…?” Tsurugi drowsily asked.

“Simple, my work here is done.” He slipped the gloves on. “I know you haven’t slept at all for the past few days, don’t lie to me boss~ The eyebags gave it away.”

Tsurugi touched the skin beneath his eyes, eyebrows lifting in surprise. “…! The soup…” He didn’t realize how tired he was until now. Like the calmness of water cocooning his violent and depressed thoughts, blocking out any sound to further disturb him. Tsurugi had wondered why his head felt light-headed and comfortable, was because he instinctively laid back into his pillow.

“Tranquilizers, slipped them in before you ate.” Syobai cracked open the door with his foot. The light of the hall outside had illuminated the room, bothering Tsurugi a bit. But Syobai had been grinning smugly, obviously trying to cheer him up whilst getting him to sleep, and making a snarky exit. Killing three birds with one stone as usual. “Probably why you’re so emotionally sober like a middle-aged widow. Hope you get your beauty rest, psycho.” And with that, Syobai is gone. Tsurugi Kinjo looked at his sheets before seeing the door swing close. His last thoughts were Syobai’s words before he drifted into sleep. A small smile forming, before slipping back into content.

What would be awaiting him once he awoke was a stack of optimistic books and some peeled nuts, something Syobai Hashimoto had taken time out of his day to make sure Tsurugi’s life was just a _bit_ happier. If there’s one thing for certain, is that Tsurugi’s gun hasn’t shot down any evil as of lately, its holster has become cold.

————————————

Syobai Hashimoto grabbed Tsurugi Kinjo’s gun and walked out of the Kisaragi Foundation gates, with the intent of murder.


	3. Paper Planes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can one still feel love after so, so many losses? Or is the journalist too shallow and hollow to learn from his failures? That's what the billiards player wants to know, just what exactly happens in the journalist's mind?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WOOOOO!!! Almost 10k words for this one!!
> 
> If you know me, I very much adore Setsukei with my entire heart, and I'm very verbal about it. Adhd, hyperfixation, and my love for these two stinkers alone gave me so much motivation to finish this in only a few weeks. Navigating fic-writing and college is hard xp. Nonetheless! I hope you enjoy this! I added some symbolism and depth, and it probably takes a decent amount of understanding to the Void's relationship and Nikei's ideology to understand parts of this, but hopefully I was clear.
> 
> Also, /some/ of the dialogue in this comes straight from Johnny Youngster's translation videos, so on those parts goes full credit to him.
> 
> Also also, since Hibiki and Setsuka use nicknames for everyone, I referenced this: https://media.discordapp.net/attachments/661973132852330537/805596440868421652/unknown.png (chart made by the official SDRA2 english team!! Love you guys!)

“A thousand words won’t bring you back; I know because I’ve tried.”

————————————

Foggy clouds rolled in from the cold south, bringing forth a somber and chilling wind. Malicious waves toss and turn until hitting the shore and beach, where the water is raging and rapid. Not very calm before the storm. Times like this is when people of all ages should be staying inside. But the gloominess of the seemingly never-ending sea attracts wandering life forms, in their sad pursuit.

Times like this is when people of all ages should be staying inside, save for a lone journalist.

He treads along the shoreline as the polite water slithers around his shoes, leaving a trail of shallow footprints. Behind him, the cape of his long trench coat flows in the breeze, tinged with recently blood-soaked memories that saturate the dry and colorless world around him. The journalist finds himself sitting on the cold sand below him, dragging a finger in the material and watching the tiny rocks fall from his hand. Now, as he looks back, he can’t remember how exactly he got to Utsuroshima’s beach or why. Just that he was somehow led astray away from his social group to reflect on some matter. His finger instinctively drew abstract art in the sand, not thinking, as his mind was occupied with more important matters.

Not that anyone would care or even notice he was gone from the island’s little community. If they can clearly forget about the existence of the death of his dear friend, Hajime Makunouchi, they can forget the quiet journalist too. Everyone was so preoccupied with themselves they wouldn’t or couldn’t give a damn about this journalist, too busy drinking last night’s event away, too busy pretending nothing ever happened, too busy moving on so easily. Even Mikado Sannoji, _that damned wizard, now he’s more unbeatable than I thought... Even he moved on so quickly._ Not this journalist though, no no, he won’t move on so easily… But that’s just it, Sannoji _wants_ him to never move on. The journalist is too plagued with the trauma of losing a dear friend, so very mentally and emotionally weak to stand in Sannoji’s way, and that’s what the wizard wants.

He won’t have it that way, no no, he’d rather burn out his own eyes than to ever let Sannoji get what he wants.

And the most mocking thing about this _current_ situation; _not_ the lack of sympathy from the island’s community and _not_ Mikado Sannoji’s manipulation, but the fact he _had all_ the chances in the world to say goodbye to that dear friend. It’s too late now, no going back, so the journalist finds himself at the beach… Playing with the sand…

“Nikei Yomiuri.” That is what the dear friend would say as he materializes in the journalist’s imagination. “What use is there sitting around?! Getcha ass up and stand up for what’s right, spill the plan’s secrets, y’know? If you hate Sannoji so much, wouldn’t y’do anything to get rid of him?”

“That’s where you’re wrong, Hajime.” The journalist, Yomiuri, finds himself staring up at the sky. His dark hair mapping the sand around his head, like some sea urchin, a very sad sea urchin. He sits up to respond to his imagination, not realizing he’s speaking out loud. “I can’t stand up to Mikado Sannoji, I don’t have a deathwish unlike you.”

“That’s how you died right?” Says Yomiuri, still talking to himself.

“You were too confident in your abilities, you were too confident in us, you trusted us to take down Mikado Sannoji in case something happened to you. You were too confident, so you went along with the plan like _sheep._ Is that what you are? Is Void just a bunch of sheep made to follow order?! Tell me Makunouchi, where did I go wrong for you to trust me so much…” Nikei Yomiuri is quite iconic amongst the group for being stubbornly grumpy, other than the rude insults he has in store. Showing signs of weakness is traitorous to himself, he would never act so vulnerable to anyone, not even himself, but today the mood felt different. This was rare, very rare.

“Oho~? I figured you were around here somewhere, Nick.”

Yomiuri was so startled from the sudden appearance of the new arrival, that he scrambled and tossed in the sand. Yomiuri rubbed his eyes impatiently after feeling the minuscule rocks scratch his eyelids. The voice was too recognizable to not alert him, the voice was none other than Setsuka Chiebukuro. The most kind-hearted, charismatic, and selfless member of the community. _But what was she doing here?!_ Yomiuri thought to himself.

“What are you doing?! Isn't it a bit rude to spy on a man’s independent lifestyle?! Jeez, shouldn’t you be with everyone else?”

“That’s rich coming from a reporter, isn’t your job to observe and share secrets?” Chiebukuro replied teasingly. Yomuri bit his tongue back and eased his shoulders.

“Anyways, you made big sis look all over the island for you! I expected a more secretive place… But from the looks of it, Nick likes taking beach strolls.” Chiebukuro’s walk over to Yomiuri made him chuckle a bit, she was so unsteady with those high heels in the sand.

“You know, I like a man whose coping mechanism is a cute little walk by the ocean~”

“Shut up and leave... Leave _me_ alone, I didn’t invite you to talk to me, did I?”

“No, but you still seemed lonely! I heard you talking to yourself and figured you needed some company.”

“Plus, Nick.” Chiebukuro continued. “You and Em were the most shaken up about yesterday, and with the whole ‘distrusting everyone’ speech you gave before leaving, I can’t help but worry for you y’know…”

“......” Yomiuri broke eye contact with Chiebukuro, he wasn’t the most comfortable when looking people directly in the eyes.

“Yes… That’s right. Hajime died last night, didn’t he? Frankly, it seems like you _all_ are the concerning ones for not-“

“Being upset with his death? You even said it yourself Nick, the Void is really untrustworthy by any means. But I’m a little curious now… Are you saddened by Mac’s death?”

“No! Why would you ever say that?!” Yomiuri ran his hands through his hair frustratedly. “Why would you think that of me….! I’m just disappointed you all aren’t worrying for Void as much as me and Kokoro. I had low expectations of everyone and it seems you all _still_ disappoint me.”

“.....”

“Now leave me alone, don’t get any smartass ideas from me mumbling to myself. Just… Just- leave me alone! You could be Void, I won’t take any chances, not even with you.”

Chiebukuro looked as if she was about to respond before her words were cut off by the wind. Yomiuri turned around to walk away from the conversation, but he realized his head felt cold by some means. Yomiuri went to grip his hat down only to feel the texture of his hair, then realized what went wrong. He whipped around wide-eyed to survey his surroundings, picking up any signs of his hat. Chiebukuro herself somehow sensed his panicked state and looked over to him.

“M-My hat?! Where the hell did my hat go?!”

Yomiuri dashed to the spot where he was sitting on the sand and shifted his foot around to uncover any trace of his hat. Chiebukuro called over to him, alerting the location of his blown away hat. Yomiuri turned his head to see her wafting knee-length in the ocean, reaching for his hat that is now filled with water. The sea had calmed its huge waves ever since Chiebukuro showed up, but it doesn’t stop Yomiuri from hurriedly rushed over. He abruptly halted to take a few steps back after his ankles got wet. He noticed Chiebukuro’s vest, shoes, tie, hairpin, and hairclip lay in the sand near his shoes. And that’s when he realized that Chiebukuro’s long hair hung loose on her shoulders, ocean water stuck the curled blue strands together.

“My hat! Make sure my hat doesn’t get ruined, Setsuka!”

Chiebukuro prevailed against the stronger waves and grabbed Yomiuri’s hat, much to his relief. She wafted back to shore, before stumbling a bit due to the force of the water. After Chiebukuro made it to the beach, Yomiuri observed how soaked she was, how _willing_ she was to get that soaked just to retrieve the hat. She fell to her knees to regain some stamina, Yomiuri found himself instinctively at her side.

“I’ll be fine... Just give big sis a sec, don’t worry too much about m-me.”

Chiebukuro trembled with a shudder and squeezed the remaining water out of her hair. Then picked up her stray clothing, stood up, shivering from getting wet and cold. Yomiuri glanced away from her with a pitiful, embarrassed, and guilty expression. _She did all that for me? Barely hesitating too?? Is that even possible to be so selfless?_ Yomiuri frowned at how much water filled his hat and soaked the lining, so he decided not to wear it. Instead, Yomiuri threw his trench coat around Chiebukuro, hopefully enough to keep her warm while he guides her back to the cruise ship.

A sacrifice for a sacrifice... But the trench coat was barely a sacrifice anyway, this was Yomiuri’s language of expressing his thanks and gratitude. Yomiuri wasn’t too cold anyway, for whatever reason, he felt the opposite. The more Yomiuri pondered about it, the more he started to doubt it was an act of genuine gratitude, and more so because Yomiuri would be held accountable if he let Chiebukuro die of hypothermia or drowning.

And Yomiuri decided it was just that, he knew he wasn’t a kind person, so he believed he could never be kind. Chiebukuro will be left to wonder about what Yomiuri is thinking, as she’s neglected any verbal “thank you”s. But the only thing she wants or feels entitled to know is to understand the _entirety_ of Nikei Yomiuri.

Wordlessly, Yomiuri assisted Chiebukuro back into the cruise. Once seating her in the dining room, he retrieved a few towels from the laundry room and set them in her lap, so Chiebukuro was left to dry herself. Yomiuri picked his soiled hat from the table, leaving a small puddle of water, and exited the room. Chiebukuro watched him leave, she was rather disappointed he didn’t stay, but it wasn’t unexpected he left. She clutched the trench coat that still remained on her.

Yomiuri turned a corner once closing the doors behind him and saw one of the fellow residents on the island, Emma Magorobi. She was like Hajime Makunouchi, a dear friend of his. But as much as Yomiuri respected him and Magorobi’s (and Makunouchi’s) relationship, he can’t help but reduce her to that of someone who is below him in every means. But even with his conscious superiority complex, he still subconsciously feels there is a true friendship between them… That was also the same for Makunouchi before he died.

“Emma, do you need something? Why are you in my way?”

Magorobi flicked the blonde hair out of her face. “A rude way to put it, I was here first. I’m not even standing in your path, you can just go around me.” It always amused Yomiuri how much her English accent would drop when she’s alone with someone she trusts. Magorobi was born in Japan, but grew up overseas, just to come back here to complete the Void’s mission.

“Unlike you.” Yomiuri took a step forward towards her. “I don’t avoid problems, much less walk around them.”

“Ah, then I’ll get straight to the point!”

Magorobi leaned forward, towering over Yomiuri with her unnatural height. It’s almost as if she was genetically English, they are much taller if Yomiuri recalls that correctly.

“Now why did you leave Setsuka alone, it isn’t all that polite of a gentleman to do that.”

“What do I look like? Her maid?! She can take care of herself, but why are _you_ suddenly worried?”

Magorobi started prodding Yomiuri back into the dining hall. “Get her something to drink, something warm.”

“Hey hey hey! Don’t tell me what to do!” He snapped at her. “Just because _Hajime_ is gone doesn’t mean you need to fill his place as a bossy nitwit!”

“I’m not doing it just for him.” She said quietly and coldly.

Nikei snorted. “Well, that’s a first.” _Emma is mourning over Hajime as much as I am… They were closer, I know that for sure… What am I sayi- thinking?! Hajime’s death was his own fault, not mine, I don’t care._ “You know he’d lecture you on unhealthy coping mechanisms right about now, you seem awfully shallow for everyone’s favorite actress.”

“Do you want me to help or not?”

“I don’t even know what you’re helping with!”

Magorobi flicked her eyes around to survey the area, making sure no one was listening. She leaned in closely and crouched a bit until Yomiuri felt her breath on his ear. “Setsuka is rather influential no? This seems like a great opportunity to make a friend and gaining trust so no one will suspect you of being Void. Plus, having someone who trusts you might help the plan later on…”

Yomiuri rolled his eyes, Magorobi continued. “Everyone has been suspecting your absences as an excuse to plot against them, they think you’re Void. We can’t let that happen, you know that.”

Yomiuri knew Magorobi was thinking of Makunouchi when she said that, how he almost revealed all the secrets of the Void. _Emma can’t think I’ll end up like Hajime, that’s bullshit. I’m ten times more careful with my words than he was_. He scoffed the thought away. “What makes you think my act is faltering? They’re as blind as you three when you chose Mikado over me, thinking he was more of an intuitive leader, my ass.” Yomiuri started walking back to the dining hall.

“If he’s a better leader than _me_ then go complain to him if everyone thinks I’m suspicious, I don’t care, I’m barely a part of Void at this point.” Yomiuri shrugged smugly, he could feel Magorobi’s agitated stare burning into him, he knows how loyal she is to this whole mess. Yomiuri continued. “I’ll consider your suggestion for my own reasons as usual, but this _doesn’t_ mean I’m anymore loyal to Void than I _ever_ was. If you don’t have anything else to say to me, then get out of my sight!”

“What happened to us Nikei… You’ve never been the kindest, but you still considered our feelings, because I’m very worried about you getting exposed… What happened?” Magorobi muttered. Yomiuri very clearly heard that, and instead of answering he decided to ask for her to repeat it, just to hear her say it again.

“Nevermind, it’s pointless. I don’t have anything to say to a _traitor_.”

Yomuri reached for the door and smiled. “I’m not the first… You won’t dare telling Mikado Sannoji, right?”

_“No I won’t… Because Hajime would’ve kept quiet, and I’m a salty fool who’s mind is too clouded with worrying for everyone that I don’t stop to act rationally.” That is what she would say._ Yomiuri turned his head to look for a response and saw Magorobi was no longer there. Silently taking off is what he presumed. Yomiuri reentered the dining room, Setsuka’s face lit up upon seeing him. _How nice…_ But Yomiuri soon noticed Yoruko Kabuya sitting in the chair beside her. _How did she get in?! If she’s here, she must’ve seen me and Emma talking before going inside. Emma, of course! Emma made sure Yoruko was eavesdropping on us so my secret would be revealed, and Mikado Sannoji would get rid of me…. I should’ve never trusted anyone!_

Yomiuri curled his lip angrily, anxious for himself that he’s now in danger, and that Setsuka was supposedly in on this too. He could feel beads of sweat run down his forehead, trying not to think of the future and _only_ think about himself, and what he could do to escape… Or maybe stay to find an excuse?

“Nick, wait! Where are you going again?”

Yomiuri turned around once more, Kabuya stood up to accuse him. “Were you spying on us? Or maybe you came back in to check the room, to make sure Setsuka left, so can have a little Void meeting huh?!”

“Even if I was a Void, it’s a stupid ass idea to have an _entire_ Void meeting in the fricken dining hall! Don’t assume such wild accusations.” He retorted.

“‘Yuko was here when you were giving me the towels earlier. She just hid in case you did something suspicious.” Said Chiebukuro, calming the situation.

Kabuya nodded but was too busy drinking her glass to respond. Yomiuri perked up, a half-smile forming on his face. _I was wrong, I’m not getting exploited just yet…_ Yomiuri realized that after all this time he was still holding his hat, but by now it was dry so he placed it on his head, and let the stray hairs from his long bangs fall over his eyes.

“Anyway, I came back because I was wor-….. Thinking you needed something to drink, an idiot like you wouldn’t know what to have after the earlier event.”

Kabuya almost spat out her drink comedically. “ _You_? Offering on your _own_ will to _get_ someone a drink?”

_Well it wasn’t all on my own, Emma gave me the idea._ “Thank you for repeating what I literally just said, new to Japanese eh?”

Kabuya narrowed her eyes at him and leaned in to whisper to Chiebukuro. “Make sure whatever he gets you isn’t poisoned.”

“Hey, I heard that!! I’m not stupid enough to kill in broad daylight!”

Kabuya stood up but Chiebukuro signaled for her not to continue the argument. Yomiuri groaned and looked away. “Do you want coffee or water?” He says bluntly.

“I dunno Nick, you can choose for me.” Chiebukuro softly smiles as she comforts the pouting Kabuya beside her, Yomiuri can’t help but feel comfortable around the billiards player. But that was no excuse to not act snarky as usual.

“ _Great_ decision making, very helpful.” He says sarcastically, took back his coat that way now hanging on Chiebukuro’s chair, then heads off to boil some water for coffee.

Yomiuri groaned exasperatedly and shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked. _I’m not doing any of this to be nice, and I’m also not befriending Setsuka to look less suspicious. This is just for me to use her against Mikado and that alone... Yeah, that’s it... Nothing else._ Yomiuri still pondered about her, about the way she reached out to him and retrieved his hat. He still hasn’t thanked her, but why would he? It’s not like she would care.

Yomiuri is just... Thankful he has someone to trust.

—————————

Chiebukuro stretched her back and wrapped a finger through her cerulean blue hair. With crossed arms, the local amnesiac Sora walked out of the elevator after Chiebukuro. Both of their eyes had large imprints of dark rings from the class trial that occurred not even an hour ago. Dark rings of purple, like (the now deceased) Magarobi’s eyeshadow.

And, above all, Chiebukuro can’t help but call her efforts to unite everyone a total failure. Her attempts to make everyone happy during such a grim situation, also a failure. Always a failure... _Does anyone on the island receive as many losses as I do? Or did I do something wrong to earn this?_ Chiebukuro turned on her heel and pranced off, keeping a wary eye for any blind corners in case a Void was hiding in the shadows.

She thought she was careful, but the billiards player almost completely stepped over Hibiki Otonokoji. The unnaturally short vocalist looks a lot smaller when she’s not arm locked with her twin sister, Kanade Otonokoji. _So what was she doing alone? By herself?_ Chiebukuro pondered. Hibiki scowled after being knocked into but brightened up once she saw Chiebukuro.

“Suka! Where were you?! Didn’t you hear me trying to call your name a sec ago??”

“Ah, forgive your big sis, I’m a bit out of it tonight.”

“Psh, what’s the death of those stupid Void gonna do to you? ... But if you’re, maybe, worried... I guess I should be too?”

_I_ _s this how we’re going to remember Em’s legacy? Or whatever legacy she had…? Her jokes and optimistic personality did so much for everyone, Void or not, but she’s gone now… I wonder how everyone will behave from here_. Chiebukuro didn’t know how to answer verbally, so she asked (practically) the most important question here.

“How ‘bout this. Biki, where is your sister?”

“Kanade..? Oh! I snuck away from her at the last second! She’s going to be so worried sick.”

“I gotta tell you, it isn’t the safest idea, especially with everything that’s been going on. But I’m sure you’ll be fine, so shouldn’t you be getting to bed?”

“Ha! If Kanade really cared for her older sister, she would come to save me if a Void popped out of nowhere.

_Y_ _ou two are only born a few seconds apart, silly Biki._

Hibiki rubbed her eyes like a tired child. “Anyways, I needed to find you to tell you that someone wants to tell _you_ something in the bathhouse...”

“Oh? And what’s that?” Chiebukuro can't help but be a bit anxious, not only that, but she’s extremely worn out and tired from the trial. So in her mind, Hibiki’s quick words felt slurred and not the easiest to understand at the moment. Chiebukuro noticed that she wasn't the only one here who felt the same, Hibiki was wobbling at the knees, and hesitating before she spoke. Rather than her usual peppy and upbeat personality.

Though she’s about as exhausted as everyone else, Chiebukuro even admits that Hibiki didn’t do much in the trial, as most of it was completed by her outrageously intelligent sister, who took the whole “talented” cake when it came down to the twins. Chiebukuro doesn’t want to compare Hibiki much to Kanade, but let's just say the older twin has more time to grow.

“I-I can’t tell you anything about it! But even if I could, I dunno what he wants to say. But- he wants you there ASAP!!”

_So, it’s a “he”._ Chiebukuro crossed her arms and smirked. “I’ll go right ahead. Thanks for telling me, Hibiki.”

Hibiki gave the taller woman a huge smile and placed her hands on her hips. Chiebukuro knows how much Hibiki enjoys praise.

“Now hurry on over to your sister and go to bed, I’ll be here for you in the morning!”

Hibiki yawned and Chiebukuro called to the former a good night, she didn’t respond, Hibiki was too exhausted, and for good reason. Chiebukuro can’t help but feel like a loss or a letdown to the group. Kokoro Mitsume’s death resulted during one of Chiebukuro’s social gathering events, in the form of a music concert. But it wasn’t the first time she felt like this, as Yuri Kagarin’s death also took place during a party Chiebukuro directed.

_I wonder who would want to see me, especially at this hour. I was guessing everyone wants to sleep but, it seems not... Hibiki said that the person who wanted to see me is a “he”; which means that it could be Syobai, Mikado, Yuki, Shinji, Teruya... Or Nikei... But I doubt it, after what he said post-trial, he wouldn’t want to see me._

With the sheer curtain falling behind Chiebukuro’s back after entering the sauna, there was nothing but the sound of her heartbeat. The same sauna that practically hasn’t been used since Chiebukuro pulled that prank on a few of her classmates when Makunouchi was alive.

Then, a creak.

It all flashed by so fast, but before she knew it, a blade was on the verge of piercing her neck. Originating from behind, a cold hand wrapped its fingers around Chiebukuro’s throat, keeping the muscle where her neck meets her shoulders stable with the hand’s thumb. On the other hand, held the knife that could kill her in less than a second. But all Chiebukuro could do is stay still.

“Not fighting back? Tch- it’s fine anyway, I wasn’t testing you.”

Yomiuri stepped from behind Chiebukuro and the grip loosened entirely. That’s when she made the connection that her attacker was indeed the journalist.

“Nikei...”

_So I was wrong, it was Nikei! But what could he want from me?_

Yomiuri tossed the knife into the bath and spun back around to see Chiebukuro, of course, still frightened. She could see he was also trembling to some extent, and his eyes were dull and cloudy. He wasn’t smiling, he wasn’t happy.

“You know, if someone else walked in here who _wasn’t_ you, I would’ve tried to kill them right here. That was just to make sure the person I wanted to see would be the only witness to me ever being here.”

“I see. But Nikei, what do you want from me?” Chiebukuro tried to control her fear. She could almost sense the other man’s head was spiraling with thoughts and emotions, emotions that he struggled to push down. They locked eyes for less than a second, and Yomiuri looked away, trying to find and form words to say or explain. He double-checked the corners of each wall for no security cameras, then leaned in.

“I am going to tell you all this _because_ I trust you, and I trust you to tell _no one_. If you get caught, the likelihood of ever getting rid of that _bastard_ will vanish.”

He took another breath in. She could hear how dry his voice was, and that’s when she knew he was mourning.

“Because... I need your help, Setsuka, I’m a Void.”

——————

“…………”

“Yes, things will get more important from here.”

“I’ll do my best to look for the things you told me..”

“Be careful, act as normal as possible so the other two Voids don’t uncover our ploy.”

“… Yeah, I know. You can just count on big sis for everything…”

Yomiuri stood straight up from leaning on the wall, his hands still shoved into his coat’s pockets. He let his hair fall back over his face to cover half of it.

“It isn’t the time to think unrealistically, Setsuka. I’ll go along with my part, the only thing _you_ need to do is to be unsuspicious and to find Mikado Sannoji’s secrets.”

“I’m still trying to wrap my head around everything…”

“Hm?”

“You’re one of the Voids… I suspected so from when I saw you at the beach. But, are you _really_ as ruthless and bloodthirsty as Em and Mac?”

“Bloodthirsty?! Didn’t I already tell you the savage one was that son of a bitch, Mikado Sannoji? They’re... Emma and Hajime-... It wasn’t their fault! No, but it was- tch- I don’t know!”

“...” _He’s having a rough time, though he may not show it. I should give him more space..._

“You all only think we’re all horrible people, but if Emma’s breakdown taught us one thing, is that we’re more than just killing for no reason. We never exactly had it easy, you know.”

“.... Nikei, I-“

“Typical, utterly typical. Not even trying to think there is some good in us. But why bother, you know what you must do, so _I_ don’t need to waste my time here.” Without another word, Yomiuri walked away from Chiebukuro and disappeared out of the room, leaving her alone. She crossed her arms and checked her handbook for the time. _4:27 AM... I should hit the bed._

She slipped her handbook away and walked out of the sauna, where she just agreed to take down the killing game with a Void. Now convinced her knowledge is valuable, she must be even more careful than before. Once reaching her room, after taking a moment to breathe from climbing that many stairs, Chiebukuro found herself looking in her mirror.

It was dark, so only a small portion of light reflected on her face. Chiebukuro has avoided looking in mirrors for a long time, and can’t help but admire herself for how much she’s grown. With her index finger, she traces over her closed eye, following faint scars that surround her skin. _“That is when you use your devil’s eye to spy on Mikado Sannoji from afar.”_ Yomiuri’s words echoed in her head. For the longest time, she despised her devil’s eye and only used it for such selfish means. But Yomiuri found a way to turn it into something that will _help_ everyone.

So Chiebukuro goes to sleep, no longer feeling like a failure or a burden to her classmates.

—————————

“If it’s something worthy of my interest and time, I’ll consider.”

“Now don’t be such a bummer Yomiuri-chan! The novellas are such classic material, I’ll lend it to ya when I have the chance.”

“It’s not a classic if I never even heard of it. Plus, shouldn’t you be focusing on what we agreed on, and not _books_?”

“Well I’m sorry, can’t help myself from bringing a little fun into your life. Also, you were the one who invited me over weren’tcha?”

“Yes, to talk about the _plan_.”

Upon stepping into his dormitory, Yomiuri lazily kicked off his penny loafers. Chiebukuro looked around more cautiously, avoiding stepping on all the stray papers and piles of incomplete articles. She observed Yomiuri taking off his shoes, and followed in advance, trying to conform to the “custom” of his dormitory. Chiebukuro sat down in a seat of a very traditional chabudai table that was fixed in the center of Yomiuri’s room. She kept her politeness, as Yomiuri kept glancing at her while he was writing something.

“So, what about the plan did you need to talk about and why here?”

As a response, Yomiuri sat down across the table from Chiebukuro and showed her the slip of paper he was writing on.

“Can you read this?” He asked.

The slip of paper had some sort of Japanese readings on it in bold graceful ink that reads “虚ろ” (utsuro), or in other words, “void”.

“‘Utsuro’….? No, it says ‘void’, right…?”

_Where have I heard the name “Utsuro” before?_ Chiebukuro thought and looked at Yomiuri for some sort of answer. She noticed that the normally mysterious and mean-spirited man looked back at her, not with a mocking or condescending glare, but with a surprisingly rare soft gaze. She could assume that this “void” word meant something to him, as the organization he’s apart of, the Void, shares the same name. Yomiuri on the other hand was lost in thought. With each day passing the memories of a man with shaggy orange hair grow fainter, Yomiuri fears that he will one day not remember the man.

_Not sure how exactly I’ll be able to tell Setsuka and explain everything. But I’m sure she’ll figure out enough on her own. If we’re both willing to go this far to take down Mikado Sannoji, it’s only fair for her to know everything I do... Fair? Am I a fair person?_ He thought to himself as he bit his lip and took back the paper from Chiebukuro’s hands. _Wise of me to pick her for this job, wise of me to stabilize trust between ourselves. Hajime and Emma wouldn’t have done the same in my place, or go down the same path I chose years ago, but they would be proud of me if they saw me right now. For that matter, they would regret choosing Mikado Sannoji over me. But that’s in the past now, along with my past mistakes... Choosing Chiebukuro to help me has been the best choice I made on this island yet._

“I wanted to get away from everyone else so we wouldn’t risk being seen by anyone, including the surveillance cameras.” Yomiuri started. “Your performance in this plan wouldn’t be half as good if you didn’t know the full picture.”

He continued. “So let me ask you this, why are you, and the others, here on the island?”

“....” Chiebukuro crossed her arms. “You told me last time that the Void brought everyone here to bring back someone, like a resurrection, and how discovering Mikado’s secrets with my devil’s eye will defeat him. But I thought about it some more... And I don’t quite understand all the way… I assumed the rest of the story was some shrouded secret that wasn’t worth telling me, and that’s fine, you’re not the type of person to _not_ be mysterious.”

“You’re here as a sacrifice to resurrect Utsuro.” He flipped the slip of paper over again to show the world. “His existence is the reason why Void is here today, not because bringing him back is our goal, but because we would all quite _literally_ be dead without him.”

The structure of Void was complicated, to say the least...

Nikei Yomiuri, Emma Magorobi, Hajime Makunouchi, Mikado Sannoji, and one other, Iroha Nijiue; all are members of the Void, who are responsible for kidnapping everyone and bringing them here to the island. Sannoji was the leader of Void, but just because he was their commander didn’t mean the other four respected him. Magorobi, Makunouchi, and Nijiue only obey Sannoji out of fear. Yomiuri would rule himself out as a special case, but deep down he knew he was absolutely terrified of Sannoji, especially after the wizard executed Makunouchi.

But Yomiuri also _l_ _oathed_ Sannoji, it was quite obvious by now. He continued.

“Our lives... Were utter trash, nothing more than that. Growing up was the worst part of this hell I’m living, until Utsuro made it all better. He gave us a piece of his godlike luck so we could be spared from the bullshit our lives throw at us. He was a gifted deity among men who chose to share his blessings, but once he disappeared and died, it all went to crap again.”

“I had no idea...” Chiebukuro sighed.

Yomiuri looked away from her. “I’m not expecting you to know, but I _am_ expecting no one else knowing because you’ll keep your trap shut about all this.”

“So because this Utsuro man died, you thought that you could revive him somehow by sacrificing us?!”

“Not me, _Mikado_ thought that. You see, I was the leader before Void, until that wretched scumbag came into our lives and took that leadership from me. He _convinced_ and _manipulated_ the others that his way of bringing back Utsuro was the right way... From there, I no longer recognized Emma and Hajime’s faces, they were different people than before... And it’s all thanks to _him_!”

Yomiuri slammed a fist into the table. “Setsuka... You have no idea how much I hate him, that Mikado Sannoji. Flaunting his successes and the deaths of colleagues who I once considered my fami-... Friends..” Through upset rage, the black-haired man planted his face in his hands while his elbows dug into the small table. “Whatever, ignore that.” He ran his fingers through the hair that covered his left eye. “They're dead now, no point retelling past events when we could focus on the future. They chose to betray me for Mikado, and that was the fate they got.”

Chiebukuro had the urge to put her hand on his, reminding him that he’s safe here, with her, and away from Sannoji. She gave in to her impulses and tried to loosely reach for Yomiuri’s hand, but it shot away at the last moment. Chiebukuro observed how the flinch was a reaction to Yomiuri receiving affection, pity, or even sympathy... _Just how sad inside up is he?_ It all makes Chiebukuro want to reach out to him more, she thinks he could emotionally benefit from having her around... No matter how long it takes. “Nikei, how do you feel right now?”

Yomiuri looks up at her through the hair that covered most of his face, he looked half surprised that Chiebukuro called him by his first name, instead of a nickname. He opened his mouth to respond but bit back his tongue before any words formed.

“Nothing, no- I don’t feel anything. Emotions are futile to the plan, so let’s stay on topic... Years pass and you never change do you? Always so entangled in other people’s feelings...”

“...! What do you mean by ‘always’? We just met at least a month ago, yeah?”

“Oooh right.” He smirks, pretending to be surprised. “Your reality is still engulfed in this illusion, eh?”

“What...?”

“All part of the Voids plan of course. Tell me this, are your thoughts right now real? Well of course your _thoughts_ are real, but what about your hands? How about your hair?”

“What do you mean ‘my thoughts’? You can’t tell me this isn’t the real world.”

“Tell me this, why wasn’t Kokoro able to contact the outside world? Why haven’t the authorities found us? How come none of us have ever heard of an island called _Utsuro_ shima.”

“I mean... But it’s a stretch to say that we are somehow disconnected from the real world...? That’s science fiction, I’m telling you.” _But then again, I’m hearing this from one of the people who took us here..._ Chiebukuo thought.

“Oh- but doesn’t it all make a lot more sense if I spell it out, Setsuka Chiebukuro?” He sneered. “We’re in a virtual simulation. Yes! That’s right! Everything you see in this room right here and now is a bunch of stringed lines of code. Everything you taste and smell is only your mind convincing you this is _all_ real. You are controlling nothing but an avatar, a robot of sorts with a human brain.”

“That’s why... That’s why we can’t remember how we got here right? That’s exactly the solution for where our memories went. If you Voids can somehow manipulate our senses, then surely you kept most of our memory from us.”

Yomiuri sighed. “To make sure the plan fell where we wanted it, Mikado and us removed… A good portion… From all your guys’ memory.”

“How much memory was exactly removed, Nikei?”

“…. For everyone it’s different…” He was hesitant to answer. “Though, you may all see each other here on the island as regular teenage classmates… But outside the virtual reality? You’re all adults, us Voids included.”

Enough was already going through Chiebukuro’s head, first Yomiuri’s revelation to her as a Void, then the plan, _and now this?!_ Her mouth hung slightly ajar, picking her next words wisely, but tempted to just bombard Yomiuri with questions.

“You knew me? You knew all of us…? That far into the future? Why… Oh Nick, out of all things why did it need to be _this_ way? You have no idea how much some of us lost. Poor Sora is straining her neck just to figure out who she really is, and you’re telling me you just-… You just took that from her?!”

“Tch- don’t lecture me on things I’ve already done! I know why _I’m_ like this, if you’re not unwilling to cooperate, then feel free to leave my room at once.”

“But just how long have you known us for?

“I don’t have all the answers-“

“Why were _we_ chosen for this?!”

Yomiuri’s hair stands on his neck, he sits up from slouching and flares his intimidation. But he isn’t angry, he’s still surprisingly patient with Chiebukuro here. “Look, I don’t know. I don’t know every single card Mikado has shoved up his ass, that’s why I contacted _y_ _ou_. Because I know you would help me, and help the others to escape. If we succeed, Setsuka, I promise you to have your memories back. Sora too… But think of our priorities and what we must accomplish to reach our goal!”

“... _Right_ … Sorry, excuse that…

“…….”

“By the way, Nike, I just wanted to let you know that I appreciate you trust me enough with all of this. Don’t get the wrong idea, alright? I must’ve done something in the past, before the killing game, to really earn your trust huh?”

_Oh Setsuka, You have no idea…_ He looks away without answering.

“So anyway, could you tell me who the last Void is?”

Yomiuri shook his head, a definite “no”. Chiebukuro noticed that he didn’t form any snarky insults or rude remarks at her since they sat down. Could it be from the atmosphere becoming more serious? _Or does he respect me...?_ She thinks. Yomiuri broke the awkward silence by clearing his throat. “Ahem, I just... Need to outline the plan to remember some things. Then you can go back and hang out with everyone else... Or whatever.”

_It’s all good, I like your company with me, Nick._ She has the urge to say out loud, but the sentence never comes out.

Chiebukuro exhales calmly and moves to sit next to Yomiuri, across from where she was originally sitting. She noticed a large heap of a single quilted blanket on the floor and picked it up. _He seems cold anyway, could that be why he wears such a heavy coat?_ Chiebukuro threw half of the heavy quilt over his shoulders and slid under, so they were both under the blanket. Yomiuri didn’t seem to mind but he did flinch a bit when Chiebukuro scooted closer to him. She watched as he drew on the paper, outlining the plan and specific directions. His trembling hand and shaky rough lines proved to Chiebukuro that he was still recovering from telling her all of that history earlier, so she had an idea. Chiebukuro reached behind him and bragged a blank sheet of paper, it took a few glanced for Yomiuri to get distracted and curious as to what she was doing.

“...? Uh, Setsuka?”

With natural elegance in the way she folds the paper, Chiebukuro flipped the forming paper shape over and over again until it resembled a near-perfect paper plane. She handed it to the confused Yomiuri, her lips pulled back to form her signature reassuring smile. Legends say Chiebukuro’s smile can cure millions of depression conditions worldwide, but that’s just a joke Magorobi made up to tease Yomiuri.

“Here, since you’re so judgmental I’ll let you decide if it’s good or not. If you like it, you can keep it.”

“Uhm, thanks….?” He set down his handy pen to gently hold Chiebukuro’s craft, she could see in the reflection of his purple eyes, his inner cogs and gears turning to analyze what use it has. Yomiuri tilts his head, still perplexed by the sudden gesture. However, Yomiuri doesn’t seem bothered at all from being side-tracked from drawing his plan, if anything, he doesn’t even notice he’s getting distracted.

“It’s a good looking paper plane, but I don’t know why you’re so interested in it.”

“No silly! Test it out, as in throw it, see if it’s a good dart or not!”

Yomiuri huffed and let the quilt blanket fall off his shoulders, he effortlessly tossed the paper airplane across the room and watched it as it glided to crash. He noticed out of the corner of his eye that ink was leaking out from under a spilled small jar, soaking the plane in a musky black. Yomiuri’s mind briefly associated the sight with the aftermath of Magorobi’s execution. And how the ink-like blood-drenched every corner of the execution room. Chiebukuro soon came into view to hurriedly clean up the mess, and Yomiuri very quickly realized her warmth was no longer there with him. So, he looked away and pulled the blanket back over his spine.

“Wow, no help huh?” After cleaning it up, Chiebukuro sits back down next to Yomiuri. Her fingers were only a bit stained in the ink that had spilled moments ago. As she spoke, she started to fold yet another plane, this time she wrote something in it.

“You looked like you were handling it just fine, without me. Hmph- anyway, I’m still trying to figure out what the whole plane origami was for.” He said as he continued drawing his plot again, whilst also trying to think it through.

“… You even said it yourself once that the greatest form of communication is by writing.” She dropped the new craft in his hands. “Open it, trust me.”

Cautiously yet curiously, he opened the folded paper to read the little message inside. The card only read “surprise!!!” with a smiley face, and the next thing Yomiuri knows, he was tackled to the ground in a hug. The air was completely knocked out of his lungs due to being caught off guard. And _since_ he was caught off guard, of course, he would react in a way, so Yomiuri started to flail his arms helplessly.

“What are you doing woman??! Get the hell off me!!”

Chiebukuro let out a happy laugh and pulled herself up, still covered in the blanket with Yomiuri sprawled out on the floor.

“Jeeeez! What was that even for?!”

“I hugged you, of course.”

“Well duh- but did I permit you to do so? No!”

“I wanted to demonstrate how feelings and messages can be held in these little paper planes... But it was also, kinda, an excuse to surprise attack you.”

“You’re completely mad! Ridiculous, we should be focusing on the plan not coddling up on the floor.”

“Oh, your face says it all~ You enjoyed it.”

Yomiuri’s ear flared with red from embarrassment. “Shut _up_ , it’s none of your damn business... How unprofessional of you.”

“Hate to break it to ya, but this atmosphere is hardly professional.”

“Because _you_ made it that way!!”

“Anyway, Nikei, you seemed so tense from earlier. I know talking about yourself isn’t your get-go, so I tried to brighten your mood, even just a bit.”

Yomiuri pulled himself back up and got back under the quilt, Chiebukuro noticed how easily cold he gets. But even he can’t hide the slight smile forming on his face, as much as he tried to block it with his hair.

“And it seems... It worked.” Chiebukuro tilted her head. She had the idea to brush his bangs out of his face, but knew that it would cross the line too much and invade his boundaries. Even if Chiebukuro _did_ just tackle him.

She didn’t notice, however, that Yomiuri was writing in the papercraft she gave to him. Finishing writing, he aimed for the ceiling and let it fly, only to fall on Chiebukuro’s head. H _e anticipated that didn’t he..._ She opened the message, it said, “stop wasting my paper to make airplanes, idiot.” With a frowning face... Or was it a frowning _and_ angry face?

“See? You’re a lot easier to understand when you don’t mumble and cover your face, and instead write your feelings on this paper.”

“Enough about this ‘feeling’ bullshit or I just might vomit. Besides, I finished drawing the directions and plan....” He said as if he was waiting for something, whilst also taking the entire quilt from Chiebukuro.

She smirked. “So....”

“ _So_ , you can leave now.” His words gave off the impression that he didn’t care if she stayed or left. His lone wolf persona rather not be bothered, but he wouldn’t mind the company. So Chiebukuro took advantage of this thought.

“I was actually thinking about reasons on why you _still_ should read ‘The Black Lizard’ and ‘Beast in the Shad-‘“

Yomiuri’s groan cut off her words. He wasn’t all that bothered, because if you listened closely, you could hear him giggling through his exasperated unarticulated sound. He’d much rather have Chiebukuro, the one person he could trust, here instead of anyone else.

—————————

_How am I supposed to carry the weight of everyone on my shoulders, if I can barely keep an appetite?!_

Chiebukuro pokes her mashed potatoes with her fork, spacing off. The dining hall was bustling with noise, but Chiebukuro can’t help but feel nostalgic to when it was _louder_. When there were sixteen people here in the dining hall instead of eleven. The mocking feeling of being a failure to everyone else danced around her head, singing a chorus of self-pity and loss.

_Everyone is counting on… Me… Even if they don’t know it. Nick and I will succeed, definitely! I can’t let them down, not only for our safety and survival of course, but because Nick deserves it… He may seem like there’s only an unchangeably grumpy person under that coat, but he lost his only friends seemingly overnight, I wouldn’t have it easy either…_

The whole liveliness of the room just reminded how at any point in this killing game, that “liveliness” would be cut silent forever. Chiebukuro doesn’t which one of these voices will be the last she’ll ever hear of them, to add to the tally of how much she failed to unify everyone. So, to not show her despair visibly. Chiebukuro will continue to wear a smile and greet everyone as normal and equal. Because if no one else was going to do that, then _she_ will take charge and lead them to be that kind of person. Of course, no one should know that their leader figure was suffering from hopelessness

_But why should I think that way, I have Nick of course! We’ll be a-okay, because I trust him._ She takes one bite out of her food and stands up with her plate. _Besides... I should get to work by now._ Chiebukuro thinks to herself, eyes narrowing at the Sannoji who just left the room. She quickly yet quietly set her food on the counter, for another person to eat, then trailed the wizard mastermind from behind. Chiebukuro leaves the room of snarky remarks aimed at Yomiuri, stating why he perhaps doesn’t matter nor belong. _But our plan will show them just how equally important he is, if not even more._

_I’m doing this for everyone. I’m doing this for all of us. May we find peace after escaping the island._ She reminded herself.

Chiebukuro walked lightly on her high heels, avoiding any noise to echo in Sannoji’s ears without being suspicious. She did a rather good job at staying quiet while traveling up the stairs, but it seems like Sannoji was too distracted with his own thoughts to care anyway. But all of a sudden, he took a sharp turn around a corner, so Chiebukuro responded the same and stopped walking. Keeping a fine distance between them, staying unnoticed, she watched Sannoji’s conversation with _someone_ as he typed in his handbook. Unbeknownst to Sannoji and the unknown entity, it was all being recorded by Chiebukuro’s right eye.

_And before all of this ends..._

Her camera eye started to ensue a small headache after some time, but thankfully Sannoji ended the conversation with potentially important news. She feels satisfaction after closing her right eye, then continues to write in a small slip of paper the information she gathered.

_It would be nice to remind Nikei again that his life matters._

Chiebukuro’s triumphant smirk is cut off from a message by Hibiki Otonokoji asking the billiards player to come over, it seemed urgent, so she left the area to find the small vocalist.

—————————

Yomiuri wanders around a colorful perimeter, with buildings that are drenched in obnoxiously bright hues. He’s been walking around this amusement park for half an hour or longer since the parade ended, he can tell since the leftover sand in his shoes is starting to make walking feel sore. _"A_ _musement” my ass... Nothing is amusing about this clownery-topia._ Yomiuri tiredly rubs his eyes and stretches his hips, which have been aching ever since last night. _Just how much more miserable can I get?! I fucking wonder._

Thankfully, the calming swishing of the waves drown out the blaring circus music from the park. Yomiuri looks at the waves with such mockery, how such tiny forces of water used to give Makunouchi motion sickness. _Objectively pathetic._ Though, admittedly, the ocean has been a lot calmer for whatever reason, hardly a ripple can ever crack the stillness and cause tension.

Yomiuri stops looking at his reflection, after realizing that the “sea” was actually just the water coming from the pool. _Tch- why am I acting so sensitive and distracted, and why is Setsuka taking so long?! She should be exactly here and right now to report what she found._ He taps his foot, looking around and getting easily nauseous from the vibrant colors. . _.. No, I’m overthinking it. I am in no way worried for her, she’s fine, yes! She can take care of herself, without me. If the others don’t care about me... Then I shouldn’t care about Setsuka!_

He loses himself in his thoughts, again. _Oh but then again, does she truly care about me...? ...! Preposterous! We’re merely colleagues, friends with the same goal and nothing more. My plans ask for no personal feelings from either of us, so I should expect none!_

Admittedly, Yomiuri does feel warm and cozy to think about someone caring for him. An uncontrollable coziness that reminds him of being with Chiebukuro in his room, while she threw the blanket over the both of them, her warm body close to his.

_Ugh- why am I thinking about that, it’s nothing necessary..._

_I just..._

_It’s nothing..._

At that moment, Nikei Yomiuri pulled out an old note that was quite out of shape. It had bents, dents, ripped corners, and more. This was a letter Yomiuri had written upon spawning on the island, a resignation letter to the rest of the Void stating why he wants to leave. Not because he _doesn’t_ care about them (except for Mikado, he has never cared for _him_ ), but because he can’t stand to be under Mikado Sannoji’s leadership. It was futile now, Makunouchi and Magorobi’s deaths were a wake-up call that it’s going to take more than a letter to leave Sannoji out of his life. It’s going to take effort, a plan, and Setsuka Chiebukuro.

That plan was already in motion, obviously, so where _is_ she? _Why isn’t she here yet?!_

Knowing that the letter was more useless than Nijiue, the other Void member who is less mentioned due to how minuscule her purpose is, he started to fold it. Practicing from memory and secretly watching Chiebukuro, the scrap paper became a paper airplane, albeit not in the best shape so it won't fly very well.

_Emma used to call planes, “aeroplanes”... Weird..._

But watching the plane glide into the calm poolwater was very satisfying to Yomiuri, all those words filled with _useless_ and _unneeded_ and _worthless_ emotion, words that carried politeness and signs of weakness, were gone with time. He took pleasure in watching the paper disintegrate underwater. But the stillness of this moment was interpreted by a stranger’s voice.

“What should we do…? Did something really happen to Setsuka…?”

Yomiuri flinched from the sudden chatter and looked around suspiciously. For a journalist, it was natural to Yomiuri to eavesdrop on conversations and gossip.

“Maybe we’re too late… Maybe she’s already k-… I… No…” Says the same voice.

“Yoruko, calm down! Nothing has been confirmed right now.”

Ah that’s it! Yomiuri recognizes the voices clear as day once he turns around to look at the women a few meters away. None other than Kabuya and the amnesiac Sora. Yomiuri runs up to them with a steady pace, waving his hands to grab their attention.

“Huh? What are you two doing around here when the parade’s over?” He asks, while noticing the visible trail marks coming down Kabuya’s cheeks, Sora stands in front of her defensively, eyes narrowed and willing to deflect any insults aimed at her Kabuya. Yomiuri continues. Hm? And why are you crying, heheh… Have you finally realized just the kind of situation we’re in and given up?

“Nikei, shut up. We have no time for you right now.”

“And why is that-?“

“Setsuka’s missing.”

Then, the ocean waves in the distance crashed up in a symphonic crescendo, a sudden climax followed by more rounds of heavy waves. Could this be the start of a drastic storm?

————————————

“Neither will a thousand tears; I know because I’ve cried.”


End file.
